


His Happy Place

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Version #487 - or whatever number we're up to - of re-imagining the end of, well,that.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 15
Kudos: 136
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	His Happy Place

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm done with finale rewrites, still mad, and now have a WIP that isn't related to the finale. What has this show done to us all?

The thing about puncture wounds is that the pain arrives after the injury, cold seeping in before any agony really starts. Dean's been stabbed enough times to know the feeling, but this one is different. The cold ache is bone deep, and for once won't have the chance to leave any scars.

He doesn't want this. This is not the life he'd started planning for himself. All these years of sacrifice and this? This is how he goes? It's unfair. All of it is. Though while he can't hide all of how scared he is, for Sam, he'll be strong. So it's goodbye, brother. See you on the other side of everything. Dean knows how this works. It just really didn't feel like his time.

After, there is nothing. An endless expanse of emptiness. All his senses are on alert, but for what? There isn't anything here. Dean moves anyway; walking, crawling, gliding, whatever it is he's doing. He's heard so many stories about following the light, but there is none. He's not hellbound, or in purgatory, has seen both places enough times before to know neither of them are here. So what's left? Nothingness. Is that all he gets after everything?

Anger surges through Dean, the kind that would once have made him want to lash out, but what can he strike at when there's nothing around? He didn't want to go, he didn't want to go like _this_ , he isn't ready. He isn't ready, and the unfairness of it all is puncturing him, over and over, worse and more fierce than any rebar ever could. He'd fall to his knees and weep but even he is empty, nothing but rage hammering away inside his heart. And then it drops away to more nothingness. It's over. His grief for passing is gone before it even really starts.

He's walking again. Moving, somehow. There is no breeze against his skin or noise to seek out. There is no shift in the endless darkness everywhere he turns his head, and no break in the stillness all around. So the white noise that fills his ears the moment a tug on his chest drags him forward, there is nothing to prepare Dean for it. One moment he is nowhere, and then, he is here.

Heaven. This is, heaven, isn't it? Exactly how he's always pictured it could look. The wind on the trees, the freshness of air, the feeling of peace settling in on him. Dean reaches inside himself seeking out that rage from what has to be just seconds ago, and it's gone. Really? Just like that? No pain or anguish, no lingering coldness from the pointlessness of his own demise?

Dean wants to trust, he does, and everything feels so final, but the feelings of knowing he should feel unrewarded and also being at peace isn't sitting quite right at the same time. Though what can he do? Dean looks around him breathing deep, then picks a direction. Stumbles to a stop for trying to work out exactly where here is.

"Well. At least I made it to heaven," he says out loud.

"Yep."

Bobby?

Dean's feet carry him forward, and on autopilot, he sits, drinks, hears of all that has happened. Fierce pride in Jack is the first real feeling to hit him here in heaven, allowing that peace that's settled in his chest to feel more real, more like it's his, not put there from some external force. Though the next emotion to hit him is even stronger, a mixture of confusion, agony, and hope, all at once.

"Cas is here?"

Dean's voice breaks, and his heart pounds, his limbs trembling like he might slip right from where he is sat. He's here? He can't be. He can't. Since when does he get everything he wants?

Bobby's face softens, his smile understanding. It all blurs for Dean trying to look at him through his tears. "Yeah. He's here. Probably pissed that you're here so soon. Think he planned on some finishing touches before you showed up, but. Well. You're here now. That's all that matters."

"Can I see him?" Dean asks, back-handing away his tears before pressing the heel of his hand against his mouth. It won't change anything. He's sobbing; loud, and broken, and relieved, and scared shitless. All of it. Bobby doesn't flinch, only pats him on the shoulder and nods to Dean's side.

"I figure. That car'll take you anywhere you need to be."

Baby's here as well? Dean whips his head around, crying again when he sees the Impala in perfect condition, not a dent in her bodywork, glinting in the sun. He laughs, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing to calm himself because now is no time to be upset. He has everything he's ever wanted here. He just has to go get it.

"You got everything you could ever want, or need or... dream. So, I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?"

The answer is obvious, to the easiest question in the world. "I think I'm gonna go for a drive."

* * *

This drive is different. There is purpose to it like nothing else, a sense of certainty in his core that lets Dean know he's going exactly where he needs to be. The views are beautiful, because of course they are. Hasn't he told Cas over and over exactly how his favorite drives would look if he was free to drive without purpose for hours?

Cas made this place, perfectly, for him. Of course he did. Because Cas knows him, like no one ever has, and because Cas loves him. Cas loves _him_. _He_ is loved. _Him_. Dean laughs, loud and raucous, the sound of it echoing out around the Impala and beyond, because he knows it's true, and because, well, why not? This is heaven. He's in heaven. There isn't anything else left for him to fear.

And Cas is here. Right here. Stood by the side of the road just waiting for him, like he always is. Just seeing him puts such clarity in Dean's soul. He can't get out the car fast enough.

"Hey, Cas," Dean calls out letting himself really breathe for seeing him. Everything is perfect now. Sam gets to live, and he'll see him here when he's ready. All the people he knows and loves are okay. The world he's left behind is far safer, far more at peace than it has been in his lifetime. He's done his work. Now? He gets to exist.

And Cas is all perfection, endless trenchcoat, crooked tie, and hair standing on end. Dean stumbles to a stop to look at him in wonder. This? This is what happiness is.

"Dean."

"You did all of this?" he says just to start their conversation. Dean gestures around them as he speaks, knowing he has a literal eternity to explore this heaven of his properly. With Cas right by his side.

"Yes."

"Jack got you out of The Empty?"

"Before I even really fell asleep."

"That's something. I was figuring out a way to come get you," Dean says, thinking once more of all the planning he's been doing. All the research, all the preparations for a life after, like the contract in his bedroom he's just signed for a regular, normal job. He was going to keep hunting until he found a way to get Cas out of The Empty, then give it all up. Really live, for himself for once.

But he's here now. Maybe he went long before he was ready, but he's here. And Cas is here; he didn't need rescuing at all.

Cas' eyes flicker in doubt. "You were?"

"Yeah, Cas. Of course I was. You didn't—I prayed to you. Just in case you could still hear me in there. Couldn't you? Even when you were out here?"

Cas' eyes flicker. "The connection was lost."

"Why?" Dean asks in dismay, hurting for the thought of anything now coming between them; even from afar.

Cas is unmoving, as always, though it's been a while since Dean couldn't read for sure what Cas is really thinking on his face. Dean thinks he is cautious, and hurting, not sure what to think or trust. Why?

"I severed it."

"What? Why?"

"I did not think I would see you again. You are here... far earlier than I anticipated," Cas says, his words filled with deep sorrow and remorse.

Does Cas feel responsible for him dying? Guilt? Dean can't have him thinking that. "Cas. I'm not saying I wanted this. I had all these plans, these ideas, for living. I really did. But it happened. And I'm here. I can't change that."

Cas looks around him, hands deep in his pockets as he sighs. "Yes. You are. I hope everything is to your liking."

How could it not be? The thing he wants more than anything is now a reality, for Cas standing right in front of him. "Yeah. It is, Cas."

"I am pleased. I should leave," Cas says, already turning from him, putting ache and confusion in Dean's heart.

"What?" he says, reaching out and grabbing on to his arm before Cas can go anywhere. This is not ending like this.

"I apologize, Dean."

"For what?"

Cas looks down at Dean's fingers still digging in to the sleeve of his trenchcoat. "When I felt you pass, I was selfish. I needed to know, for myself, that you were okay. I needed to see you with my own eyes. Though now I know that you are here, and are well, I will leave you."

"Why would you leave me? Cas? Why now?" Dean asks, tugging on Cas' arm so he has to turn back to face him.

Cas' face is still filled with sorrow, pricking tears in Dean's eyes. "Because. This is your heaven, Dean. Your happy place. I cannot be here."

"Cas," Dean says, his voice breaking yet again as he takes Cas' hands between his own. "How can this be my happy place, if you're not in it, huh? How can I be happy anywhere, if you're not with me?"

Cas' jaw trembles. Dean watches it before he looks him in the eye, and seeing Cas crying is the worst thing in the world. He tugs him into a fierce hug sobbing into Cas' shoulder, crying even more when he eventually hugs back just as hard. But he has to look him in the eye for this.

"Cas. I love you," he says, still gripping on to Cas' arms as he stares at him. "You didn't give me chance to say it. We didn't have time to talk. You went, and I... I didn't know. I didn't know you'd want me like that."

"I did. I do. I always have," Cas says. He's fighting so hard not to keep crying. What has he done to him? This soldier of God, this angel, this incredible man stood before him; what has he done?

"Me too. For so long, Cas. I can't tell you exactly when it happened, but it did. I love you. I have loved you. And right now I... I think I get to love you for always. If you'll let me. If you want that."

Cas turns his wrists so he can slot his fingers through Dean's, now smiling at him through his tears. "I want that. If we can have that."

"Then, I'm all yours. Forever, Cas. How does that sound?"

Cas' lip trembles as he nods, gently squeezing Dean's hands. "Like everything I've ever wanted to hear."

He's his. Cas is his. Dean repeats it over and over in his thoughts, adjusting to the idea that he finally gets what he wants. He drops his head forward to rest against Cas' knowing a peace he hasn't ever dreamed would be his. Everything is just perfect now. "So, uh. Maybe you can show me around this place, huh? Show me what you've done," Dean says, and after he's cleared his throat adamant he's shed enough tears, ducks just enough to brush his lips over Cas' cheek.

For the look of joy it puts on Cas' face, he might as well have given him the world. "I'd like that."

"Then, let's go." Dean nods towards the Impala, and because he is free now to be everything he's ever wanted to be, does the chivalrous thing of taking Cas' hand and leading him to the passenger door.

Cas loves it, giving Dean a smile that makes his heart swell. He climbs in, sitting neat as Dean closes the door for him, watching as Dean jogs around to his side of the car. This? This is heaven to Dean. Cas by his side in the Impala with an entire afterlife to explore.


End file.
